


And then she was gone

by Bento



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6199951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bento/pseuds/Bento
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Lexa gone, Clarke has a rough first few hours</p>
            </blockquote>





	And then she was gone

**Author's Note:**

> In the end, I couldn't find all the right words, especially not for the ending part.  
> I had a very hard time trying to write this, and in the end, this is possibly the best I could do.
> 
> Would be great if you didn't throw too much hate on this.
> 
> -Bent0

Clarke ran. She just ran as fast as she could until her feet couldn’t carry her anymore. She ran until her lungs were burning and her body screamed. She collapsed on the ground, having no clue of where she was or for how long she had been running.  
It was dark. Everything around her was pitch black. She couldn’t be sure if the darkness was because night had fallen, or if it was all just in her head.

 _”I have to keep moving”_ , she whispered to herself. 

_”I have to get back up and keep moving. I can’t stop. Not now”_

Tears was streaming down her face, pooling in a little dam under her head.  
Shakily, she managed to pull herself up to a standing position, but just barely. Every muscle in her body was burning from exhaustion. She could barely even move.  
She walked a few steps forward, her whole body shaking, and the whole world spinning around her.  
She tried to pick up speed, to run again. But she only managed to stagger a few steps before she fell back onto the ground, this time unable to get back up.  
All the energy, anger and adrenaline that had been running through her body for the last few hours, was completely gone. She felt more drained and empty than she had ever felt before. She felt completely lost.

_”She’s gone. She is really gone. I’m never going to see her again. She’s gone for good. I’m going to have to carry on without her. I love her. I never got to tell her I love her. We had just begun. We never even got to try.”_

A million thoughts were running through her head at once. So many unfinished thoughts, so many unfinished actions.  
Clarke was angry. Angry with Titus for pulling the trigger. Angry with Lexa for walking in on the wrong time and getting caught in the crossfire. Angry with herself for everything.  
Titus had been shooting after her. If he hadn’t done that, Lexa would still have been alive. If she hadn’t thrown that chair at him and ran around the room, Lexa would still be alive. If she had done things differently, Lexa might still be alive.

Titus had been shooting after her. She should have been dead instead of Lexa.  
And what a pitiful death it had been too. Lexa, the great commander of the twelve clans, shot dead by a stray bullet from a weapon that no longer even belonged on the ground, just like that. She didn’t deserve it. If she were to die, she deserved a worthy death of a great leader, one on the battlefield, fighting for her people and what is right. Fighting until the very end. This was too pitiful, too human. She deserved a better death than this.

Clarke slammed her fist into the ground as hard as she could. Over and over she slammed it to the ground with all the strength she could gather. She hit rocks and twigs. She felt pain rushing through her arm over and over, but she couldn’t care less. For her, it was good to feel something else for a little bit. A physical pain that made sense, to feel something else than the overwhelming pain inside her.  
When she finally stopped, she could feel how the skin on her knuckles had split open and was bleeding heavily. She knew she had punched her hand raw, and that it was broken in at least three places. But she had felt something else, and that was what mattered.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Tears was mixing with the dirt.  
Over and over, she just kept whispering the same things,

 _”It’s just a really bad dream. She’s not really gone, she can’t be. I’m going to wake up soon, and she will be fine. This can’t be true, not Lexa”_  
She kept whispering to herself until she fell into a restless sleep, her last words being _”Ai hod yu in, Lexa kom trikru”_

 

Clarke woke up the next morning to the sun shining brightly trough her eyelids, as if nothing bad had happened just a few hours earlier. For a moment, she was confused as to why she was laying on the ground and why her hand was throbbing like crazy. She sat up, feeling almost as if she was hung over.  
She drew a deep breath and rubbed her eyes with her hands. That’s when she saw the damage that had been done to her hand. It was almost twice the normal size, and the coloring red and blue with large spots of dark purple, almost black. She remembered back to the previous night when it had happened, when she had punched the ground like if she punched hard enough, it would bring Lexa back.  
Then she remembered why she had been punching the ground, and the events of the previous night came crashing back to her. It all hit her at once. It felt almost as if someone had thrown a large rock at her, and hit her in the stomach, beating the air out of her.

When she had caught her breath, she realized how numb she felt. Her sorrow was too intense for tears or screams. It was almost like she had gone through an emotional overload and now she just couldn’t feel it anymore.  
She just felt so empty. As if nothing in this world was right. As if nothing would ever be right ever again.  
All she could feel, was anger. She was so angry with everyone and everything, herself, Titus, Lexa, Murphy. She just wanted it all to go away.  
What could have been the love of her life, had been so brutally taken away from her before they even had gotten a fair chance to try.  
She almost felt betrayed. As if life had set her up for some cruel joke.

She got up and began walking. She just stared straight ahead, walking in some sort of a haze, not noticing obstacles on the ground, she wasn’t even controlling where her legs was taking her. She just kept walking and walking, her legs automatically avoiding log, small rivers and large rocks in her way until she finally reached Polis.

 

The weeks in Polis went by quickly, yet slow at the same time. Clarke would just stay in her room all day long. She hardly ate anything, she didn’t sleep. She would just lay in bed all day long, looking back at the memories she had of Lexa. The first and last kiss, their first meeting, the betrayals and help she had given, their last moments together. All the memories were running through her head at all times as if on repeat, they never ended.  
Clarke could feel how she was heading down into the abyss, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever resurface from it. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to. What was the point of carrying on, if she couldn’t do it with the woman she loved?

The pain was just unbearable. As if a giant hole had been carved in her chest and someone had ripped her heart out and not even bothered to replace it with anything. Her chest was just a giant black hole, and she wasn't sure if it would ever heal. She wanted it to go away, but she just didn't know how. How would she ever get over the loss of the one person she had ever loved?

The feeling she carried inside her, was complicated. There was no human way to describe how this loss had affected her. She was feeling so many things at once, yet she felt numb and nothing at all. But the anger was always there. She punched walls and broke her hand over and over again. It was constantly bruised. Inflicting pain on herself was the only way for her to keep from losing her mind. At least the physical pain made sense, at least she understood it, and she knew it would go away eventually. The emotional pain was just too much for her to bear. She needed to feel something else, even if just for a little while

In the beginning, people had been very eager to wanting to help her get back on her feet, but as the days went by, fewer and fewer of those people came knocking on her door anymore. She had snapped at each and every one of them over and over, yelling about how they could never understand or how they were just making things worse for her.  
In the end, the only one knocking on her door, was the servant who brought her food she rarely even touched, three times a day.

She felt all alone in the world, now and not sure if that was what she wanted, but every time someone tried talking to her, she snapped at them. Maybe she was better off being all alone.


End file.
